


Dumpster Fire

by killerweasel



Category: Good Omens (TV Series)
Genre: F/M, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21686506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerweasel/pseuds/killerweasel
Summary: Things aren't always easy for an angel and a demon.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 61





	Dumpster Fire

Title: Dumpster Fire  
Fandom: Good Omens (TV Series)  
Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley, Gabriel, Beelzebub  
Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley, Gabriel/Beelzebub  
Word Count: 634  
Rating: G  
A/N: After Episode 6.  
Summary: Things aren't always easy for an angel and a demon.

Aziraphale frowned as the phone in his pocket rang. Crowley was the only one who had that number (and had given him the phone, which he felt was far too modern and complicated to actually use). He pushed a couple of buttons before answering. "My dear boy, why are you calling? I said I'd be home by dinner. I just need to put the new inventory away."

"Angel, we have a problem."

In the background, Aziraphale could hear someone singing 'My Favorite Things' very loudly and horribly out of key. His eyebrows shot up when he recognized the voice. "Crowley, why is Gabriel at the cottage? And why is he butchering that poor song?"

"Archangel Asshat showed up ten minutes ago with a case of beer in one hand and a pizza in the other. He shoved me out of the way and went inside. Then he started eating and drinking."

"Oh dear Lord." Aziraphale sighed, rubbing his temple.

"Yup. You need to wander around the bookshop and see if Beelzebub is there. This happens every time they have a fight and I am getting tired of it. He doesn't even have good beer."

"Don't let him put pizza on the couch this time. Make him use a plate!"

"I'll try. He doesn't exactly listen to me, angel."

The phone went dead and Aziraphale began to wander the bookshop. There was no sign of the Prince of Hell inside the shop or in the flat upstairs. He took a deep breath, straightened his bow tie, and then headed to the alley behind the shop. There were far more flies than usual around the dumpster. Aziraphale moved closer, ignoring the stench of trash, and listened. He could hear someone inside of the dumpster muttering to herself.

"Lord Beelzebub, could you please come out of there?" There was no answer, but the muttering had ceased. "What did he do this time?"

The flies on the dumpster grew increasingly agitated until Beelzebub stood up. The Prince wasn’t tall enough to see over the side, but the large fly hat on her head was clearly visible. “Gabriel thinkzzz we zzzhould move in together. I told him I wazzn’t ready yet. He got offended, I threw a plate at his head, he smashed my favorite mug with the fliezzz on it, and then I shot a bolt of Hellfire across his ass.”

“So... a typical Tuesday for you two.”

Beelzebub snorted. The snort then turned into giggles followed by full-blown laughter. “Pretty much.”

Aziraphale looked up to Heaven for guidance. When that didn’t work, he rocked back on his heels. “The two of you need to discuss it without things being destroyed. If you don’t want to live with him, that’s fine. If you do, that’s fine too. You could always try it and if you don’t like it, then you can leave.”

“You’re just trying to be reasonable zzzo he will get out of your cottage.” Beelzebub jumped out of the dumpster. She didn’t seem to notice the bits of trash were stuck to her clothing. “He’zzz acting like one of thozzze frat boys again, isn’t he?”

“I never should have shown him that film. Now he thinks that’s what people do when they have a fight with their significant other.”

“Get him to zzzober up and then give me a call. We’ll talk at your place. That’s more neutral ground.” Beelzebub disappeared in a cloud of sulfur.

Aziraphale pulled out his phone. When Crowley answered, the angel could hear Gabriel attempting to hit high notes like Freddie Mercury. “They had a fight about moving in together, dear.”

“Angel, I am very glad our relationship was never a dumpster fire like theirs is. Get home soon, he’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll sort the books tomorrow. See you soon.”


End file.
